Like a Prayer
by badrefrigerator
Summary: Harry is an Auror and Draco will do whatever it takes to get out of his crime. Sequel to Like a Virgin. PWP


**a/n:** sequel-ish to Like a Virgin, can be read on it's own. Mainly I just really wanted to write Auror Potter and criminal Draco. This is entirely shameless smut. Flamers to the left.

* * *

Draco stands at the end of the hall, shoulders tense and nearly bouncing from foot to foot. He licks his lips, balls his hands into fists, stares at the door. Waits. Anticipates.

Any moment now.

And then - the lock clicks in the door and the knob twists, turning far too slow for Draco's liking before the door creaks open and Harry walks in, shoulders bent and fumbling with his key.

Draco makes a low noise in the back of his throat - and Harry looks up, a smile already on his face before he pauses, confused, taking in Draco's appearance.

"What -" Harry begins, but Draco beats him to it.

"They said you'd be along any minute now," he says, reaching up to tug at his already loosened black tie. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, revealing pale forearms and a dark stain on his left arm, and he knows he's mussed his hair exactly how Harry likes it. Kinky little fucker. "Took your time though, didn't you, Auror Potter? _Fuck_ you."

Harry's being slow tonight, standing there at the open doorway and blinking at Draco in his heavy Auror robes. "I was on a case," he says.

"You're probably exhausted then," said Draco, moving forward and giving Harry his prettiest smile. "Want to go home, kick off your shoes, eat dinner with the wife? Why don't we just call it a night."

Realization is slowly dawning in Harry's eyes and he kicks the door shut, slowly moving forward. "Draco Malfoy," he murmurs, voice dropping down an octave as he comes to a stop in front of Draco. "Let me guess. You think that pretty mouth will work on me? I've heard what you've done for some of the other blokes to get off a charge or two. Nothing's too foul for you these days, is it? Given up on keeping the Malfoy name clean, have you? It was a lost cause anyway."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Draco says, purposely straightening his shoulders in a defensive stance and leaning away from Harry. They're both standing in the middle of the hall now, facing each other and with Harry's boots on, he's just a little bit taller than Draco. Draco likes it. "Been gossiping about me with your mates then, eh, Potter?"

Harry narrows his eyes. "Discussing the depths at which some men will sink these days to escape a fine or two. Except this latest one..." he moves forward and Draco swallows unconsciously, understanding for the hundredth time why they say Harry is one of the most frightening Aurors on the field; why the despicable tremble before him; why bad men turn tail and flee. Because he is strong - tall - broad-shouldered and dark. He must have forgotten to shave again this morning because there is rough stubble all along his jawline and it only serves to make his eyes burn brighter, all of which does nothing for Draco's composure. He barely breathes as Harry moves to stand too close, his eyes examining Draco's, raking over him. "Azkaban, they say. Too many offences, too many strikes against that pretty Malfoy name. How do you feel about Dementors, Malfoy?"

The hitch in Draco's breath is not faked. "Az - Azkaban? That's not -" his voice is hoarse. "I don't deserve Azkaban."

Harry just barely cocks his head. "Don't you? Heard you've been messing around with dark potions again. I think it's time you learned not to fuck around with the Auror department, Malfoy." He takes a step forward - and Draco stumbles back on cue, looking wildly around and then back up at Harry.

"Any - anything!" he gasps out. "Fuck, Potter, if you want me to -"

"Auror Potter," murmurs Harry threateningly.

"Auror Potter," gasps Draco as images of Azkaban creep in on his vision. "Please - if you want a fucking blowjob, I'll get on my knees right here, just please not Azkaban -"

Harry grabs Draco's arm and heaves him forward, lifting his arm up into the light and staring with disinterest at the Dark Mark gleaming there, as black as the day Voldemort seared it into Draco's skin. "Tainted," he murmurs, and Draco shudders, bringing Harry's eyes back to his face. "You have broken far too many laws for me to let you bypass it this time with mere _fellatio,_ Malfoy."

Draco chokes. "What - what do you want with me?"

Harry's eyes gleam. "What do you think I want?"

"You - you want to - f-fuck me?" And then Draco's voice gains strength and he spits out, "Want to shove your cock up my arse, eh, Potter? You're just as fucking filthy as I am, don't pretend any differently."

Harry's eyes darken and then he reaches out, sliding his free hand down Draco's cheek and then taking his chin and tilting his head up so that his neck vulnerably stretches up. "Do you want to go to Azkaban, Malfoy? You want to feel the Dementors pass by you every day and hear the screams of your inmates? Who knows - maybe you've fucked one of them before too and you can be cellmates." His smile is razor sharp.

Draco's having a hard time breathing. "How - how do you want to do it?"

Harry's hand slides back up to rest against his face, his fingertips just barely stroking the smooth skin there before he slaps Draco, hard, right across the face. "On your knees," he says, and Draco drops.

There is a moment where they stay still in that position, Draco staring up at Harry and Harry staring right back, a hungry lust gleaming in his eyes. He trails his fingers over the blooming red mark on Draco's skin and for a moment he breaks character, everything in him softening as he murmurs, "You're so beautiful." And then the moment breaks and he moves his hands away, ordering, "Unzip me."

Draco's hands shake as he moves to comply, saliva flooding his mouth as he pulls open Harry's trousers and then pulls them down, inhaling Harry's musky scent as he hesitates for a moment and then pulls out Harry's half-hard cock. The fact that he's not all the way erect already shows just how many times they've played this game - as well as others, all adding to Harry's stamina - and he trails shaking fingers down Harry's cock, tracing his veins with light touches.

"Fucking tease," grunts Harry and he slips his thumb inside Draco's mouth, roughly hooking it against Draco's lower jaw and pulling down, a small growl escaping his throat as he pushes his cock into Draco's mouth.

_Fuck,_ but he's so hot. Draco blinks rapidly at the forceful movements and struggles to keep his throat relaxed against Harry's cock, reaching up to wrap a hand around the bottom of Harry's cock as he shallowly bobs his head. He can feel it slowly thickening against his tongue and he moans at the feeling, his hand gripping the base tighter as Harry's cock pulses and a hint of pre-come splashes against his tongue.

"Little cockslut," says Harry, his voice a low rumble as his hand slides up Draco's face to come to a rest in his hair, fingers twining through the blond strands. "Fucking take it - isn't that what you want? Just _begging_ for it?"

Merlin, and Draco is. He moans, shifting down lower on his haunches so that his eyes can blink up at Harry - who lets out a rough noise at the image that presents - and lifts his hands to Harry's trousers, tugging them down lower. Harry's cock is nearly entirely hard now, stiff and hot against Draco's tongue, and Draco pulls off, panting a bit before leaning in to lick at Harry's member, warm and messy.

"Wouldn't be surprised if you commit these crimes _hoping_ you'll get a cock down your throat," says Harry, nearly breathless as his hand rests limply in Draco's hair. "Bet you nearly came in your pants when you found out I was the one assigned this time. Fucking _stop_ that, take it all."

"Yes," groans Draco a second before Harry's hand tightens in his hair and he shifts forward, grunting as he shoves his cock ruthlessly into Draco's mouth, holding his head still as he fucks hard and fast. Draco struggles not to choke - and his own cock throbs at the noises Harry makes, low and unchecked, ripped from his lips as he thrusts in and out - and then he pauses, cock down Draco's throat, and holds it there for a moment, a long groan building in his chest before Draco can't take it any more and pulls back, gasping.

"Fuck, yes, _fuck,_ you're so good at that," says Harry, his hand coming up to stroke himself as Draco catches his breath again. "All over my cock like a fucking whore, like you _need it._"

"I do need it," says Draco, and he leans in again, drawing the head of Harry's cock back into his mouth and sucking hard. He's about to take control again when suddenly Harry's hips are rocking forward - and he changes the angle so that his cock slides against Draco's cheek, a long groan escaping his lips unbidden as he thrusts shallowly into Draco's mouth. This isn't what it's like every time - sometimes they fuck slowly, sometimes it's warm and soft and sleepy, sometimes it's all Harry murmuring how much he loves Draco, over and over again. Sometimes Draco is a professor and Harry's the student - sometimes they're strangers who have just met - sometimes Harry's the Auror but Draco's overpowered him - sometimes there's ropes and gags and sometimes it's in a public bathroom in some bar somewhere. But then there are nights like these, where Draco is just itching for it, craving it, and Harry gives it to him - forces it on him, and he loves every fucking second of it.

"Oh, shit, shit," says Harry, pulling out, and then he's using the hand in Draco's hair to drag him up, turning him and shoving him into the wall, not even pausing for breath before kissing him impossibly hard. His hands scrabble at Draco's sides, pushing his shirt up and raking over his skin and Draco hopes he leaves a mark, arches into, panting into Harry's mouth and squirming with need.

"Close?" he asks as Harry pulls away slightly, an impish grin appearing on his face.

"I'm going to slap you again," Harry warns, but he doesn't, instead turning his attention to Draco's neck and biting down, leaving a punishing mark before soothing it with one swipe of his tongue.

"Knew you enjoyed it, sick fucker," pants Draco, tilting his chin up to allow Harry more leverage and when Harry pauses, Draco barely can quell the shit-eating grin that pulls at his lips. He knows this game - he knows which levers to pull and how to win.

A moment later, hot breath washes against his ear, and he closes his eyes, soaking it in. "You think I'm gonna let you come after that, Malfoy?" A hand appears at the bulge in his trousers, grinding in mercilessly. "You're going to be _begging_ me for release when this is over, and it's going to take quite a lot of convincing for me to give it to you."

"Does your wife know what a kinky shit you are?" he asks, arse rubbing against the wall as he presses into Harry's hand. "Does she know that you want something different than cunt?"

"Don't bring her into this," growls Harry, and before Draco can think, he's being pulled off the wall and turned around, barely turning his face to the side as he's shoved back against it. He gasps as his trousers are shoved down without even bothering to be unsnapped first, and then two fingers are shoved into his mouth, nearly choking him. He can't even think to do anything for a moment and then Harry whispers in his ear, "Gotta do better than that, because it's all the preparation your sorry arse is going to get," and he starts sucking furiously, tongue swirling around those two fingers as though his life depends on it.

"Filthy whore," Harry rasps, and then he pulls his fingers out and presses a kiss to Draco's shoulder as the only warning before one finger pushes into Draco.

And that's why Draco loves it - loves this, as much as he does. Because as fun as it to put on the act, to play the game, as much as he gets off on being pushed around and forceful deepthroating, it's the knowledge that underneath it all, Harry loves him, that makes him crave it so bloody much. The knowledge that, when this is all over, Harry will hold him and make him tea and ask him about his fucking day - and then Draco loses all coherent thought as a second finger pushes into him, sliding deep. If they didn't do this all the time, it would burn more, but as it is, it's still fast enough that he leans his forehead against the wall and takes two deep breaths before pushing back onto Harry's hand.

"Next time you open your fucking mouth, you're getting no fucking prep work at all."

"Planning on a next time already, Potter?" and half of it is because that's just who he is, snarky and mouthy, and the other half is because the more he taunts, the harder Harry pushes, and how can he possibly stay quiet with an incentive such as that?

"If you want to keep the fuck out of Azkaban, then you'd better be planning on _several_ next times." A sharp little nip on his shoulder, and then the fingers are gone and Draco's breath catches in anticipation right before Harry rocks in, his cock still just barely wet from Draco's mouth. It's a slow burn and it drags a low groan out of Draco's mouth, the muscles in his shoulders a tight line as he braces himself against the wall and stays impossibly still.

"All right, love?" breathes Harry in his ear, one hand stroking Draco's side under his shirt, up and down in a slow, rhythmic motion. It's just a moment of breaking character but Draco grits his teeth because of it, leaning his hips forward and then pushing back hard. Harry chokes and then laughs a little, lowly. "Merlin, you feel so fucking tight. I must be the lucky Auror then, eh?" He slowly starts rocking back and forth, each draw in and out forcing air between Draco's clenched teeth. "First one to break you in?"

"Fuck, Potter," growls Draco, resting his head on his forearm and feeling his whole body tighten with the effort of Harry's achingly slow thrusts. "If you're going to fuck me, fuck me. Enough with this bloody foreplay shit."

"Ask nicely."

"Fuck you."

The thrusts slow down even more, if possible, and Draco feels every burning inch as Harry pulls out and then pushes back in. "Dementors," Harry reminds him.

A shudder wracks Draco up and down. "_Please_," he manages to get out.

"Please what?"

"Please - fuck! Just - something," and he's begging now, damn it, exactly what Harry wants, why is he always reduced to this? "Anything, God, give me anything, I just want your cock - please move, Potter, please -"

"Auror Potter," Harry corrects in soft voice, mouthing along the line of Draco's nape.

"Auror Potter, _shit_," because just that one title and Harry's ramming into him, his hands on Draco's hips as he thrusts in, and Merlin, Draco wishes he could see Harry's face during this moment. He closes his eyes and he can see it - the utter concentration, the taut lines of his forearms, the sweat darkening the already black fringe along Harry's forehead. It would be beautiful - but he can't deny that he loves what this position does to him, pressed between the wall and Harry's firm body.

"You live for this," Harry grunts, and Draco shouts as his cock strikes something deep within Draco, lighting a fire in the pit of his stomach. "Just waiting for another cock -"

"_Yours_."

"Fuck yeah, you think anyone else is going to get this? You're mine, Draco. All mine," another hot, possessive kiss right under his ear. "Are you close?"

"Yes, yes," pants Draco, despite not having touched himself once this entire time. Just Harry's low tenor in his ear - the sweet burn of his cock - it's all enough for him and he needs the permission, aches for it. "Please, fuck,_ please_."

"Come," says Harry lowly, and his arms go around Draco, holding him tightly as he rocks harder into him, and he says it again, even more softly, "Come for me, Draco."

Draco cries out, arching into Harry, and one of his hands drops from the wall to scrabble for one of Harry's, his entire body tensing as he frantically entwines their fingers together and holds hard, come painting the wall white as his neck tilts back and he tightens his arse around Harry. He can feel the other man shake with him, a stream of cursing leaving his lips, and then Harry's cock pulses inside of him, coating the inside of his arse generously.

"Fuck," breathes Draco, and he winces as Harry pulls out, winces again as Harry turns him around and kisses him sloppily, warmly.

Harry says, "I love you," and his gaze is fervent, adoring, one of his hands stroking Draco's face. He leans in, kissing him again and again, his own way of saying that the game is over, that Auror Potter has left, that this is just Harry and Draco and that all he feels is love, love.

"Are you going to make me tea?" slurs Draco out, blinking sleepily at Harry and sagging against the wall. His shirt sticks to his back.

"Of course, love."

"How was work?" asks Draco, unable to help himself.

Harry laughs, sneaking another little kiss in before turning away towards the kitchen. "Not nearly as exciting as what happened afterwards."

"No kinky sex play to get a criminal out of jail?"

"That's more Ron's thing, really."

"Eugh, don't tell me about Weasley having sex."

It's hard to push off the wall, but he does somehow, dragging his feet and just barely making it to the kitchen table before dropping into one of the creaky wooden chairs he hates.

"Why not? Ron knows all about us having sex," says Harry, laughing as he moves to get the tea. He'd dropped his Auror robes off at the table and now Draco examines them thoroughly, bringing them up to his nose to smell.

"You're going to have to wash these tonight. They smell like sex."

"And whose fault is that?"

"You could have easily taken them off before we started." Draco hums happily as Harry sets down a cup of tea before him, and he definitely used magic to speed it along because there's no other way for it to have appeared as fast as it did. Merlin, he loves this man. "Does Ginny know that she's your fake wife in these games?"

"Of course."

Draco studies him, searching for a lie, but Harry's grin gives nothing away.

"You're weird."

"You just assaulted me in the hallway of my own house with a kinky roleplaying sex game."

Draco drinks his tea. "You enjoyed it. Don't deny it."

The grin Harry gives him is wide and unabashed. "I enjoyed it. I would enjoy taking a shower with you as well, and then watching that new mystery show on the telly."

"I hate mystery shows."

"Tomorrow," Harry promises, "we do Healer and patient."

"I love mystery shows."

It is an easy life they live, it is a beautiful one, but most importantly, it is one they share together, in love and happy.


End file.
